Really, Really Well
by NDBaby
Summary: Post Insurrection, Pre Nemesis. Everyone knows had Picard and Crusher gotten it together, something would have happened to mess it all up. There's a reason they were supposed to be afraid.


Things were going really well. And for a worrier like she was, it seemed, too well.

Since she'd finally decided to take the risk and tell him how she felt, things were going really really well.

She had really let him have it. She was still a little surprised he was willing to take her on after all she'd said during that breakfast. She was pretty sure she'd sounded like a petulant teenager. So embarrassing.

But it had all come tumbling out. How hurt she was that he didn't reach out to her after the deaths of his brother and nephew. How distraught she had been when all the occupants of the emergency exit pods had been accounted for, and he had not been among them. She hadn't been able to function. Helpless. How embarrassed she was that all the casualties had been handled by Alyssa and Dr. Selar. How angry she was that he hadn't even given her a look, a smile, a hug, or a goodbye. How since then, even after Ba'ku, she'd been doing all she could to catch his attention and say, "Hey, I'm here, you're here, and I don't think we should be afraid anymore."

But she had still been afraid. Afraid she'd waited too long. Afraid she was too old, too scarred, and that he still thought of her as Jack's wife and Wesley's mother. So there she'd be - touching his hands, his arms, his chest; standing so close she could smell his aftershave; adjusting his collar, and making sure his pips were just right. Making herself available for any lunch, all breakfasts, any dinner, and any special event in the chance he'd say, "Hey, Doctor. Dinner? I could make that an order." She loved it when he did that.

She'd even confided in Deanna.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She'd had a particularly boring day in sickbay, all the while reading incoming casualty reports from the battlefront. A boring night that had come after weeks of particularly boring days. None of the crew could understand why they were being held at arm's length in the war, but it made them all feel helpless. She was never one for feeling helpless when she could do something about it. She hadn't been able to sleep that night, and whenever she couldn't sleep her mind invariably drifted towards him. So after that restless night that was not cured by hot milk, brandy, and even a hypo, she'd turned up at his quarters early. She could do something about him.

He'd still been in his robe.

And seeing him, before he'd put on his captainly armor for the day. Bare feet. It had all come pouring out. He'd stood there, bewildered by her as ever. And when she'd finished her monologue, he'd closed the distance between them wrapping her in the biggest hug. And then he'd kissed her. And then he cancelled the staff briefing that morning.

Yes, things had been going really well since then. Not a sleepless night since.

It had been a month and so she was planning a special evening for the two of them. Well, another special evening after a month's worth of special evenings. She blushed and felt warm all over, just at the thought of all the time they'd spent together. What they'd done. What they'd said. Oh, she loved this man, she knew. And he loved her. And she was replicating boeuf bourguignon for dinner tonight!

The doors swished as she entered his quarters. He'd changed the security settings on his door to allow her automatic entry. She began setting the table and placing candles all around the dining area. She sat down at the replicator and pulled up the settings she'd saved in the computer earlier in the day. She was in the bedroom changing into the dress she'd just replicated when he entered his quarters. "Beverly?" he called.

"I'm in here. Just a moment." Smoothing the tight dress over her hips and checking herself in the glass, she hung her uniform and a newly-replicated negligée in his closet. Special, indeed. When she exited the bedroom, she didn't get the reaction she'd expected.

"What's for dinner tonight, Beverly? I'm not that hungry," he said distractedly as he sat down at his desk, pulling up messages on his terminal." Sitting down on the couch, not a little seductively, she decided on a course of action. He hadn't noticed the dress. A dress she'd chosen for him. One that was similar to the bright blue dress she'd been wearing the night they'd met all those years ago. He'd confessed a few weeks ago how much he remembered from that night. She remembered too.

"Oh? Well, I'd programmed up a beef stew for 1900. But I could cancel it, if you 'd prefer. Supper can wait. You know I'm not as patient …" she crooned.

"Whatever you like," he interrupted. "I need to return one of these messages in my ready room. I'll be back soon." And then he got up and left!

She frowned. It wasn't like him to be distracted like this. Especially now.

Thirty minutes later and he still hadn't returned. She'd canceled the dinner and returned the dishes and candles to the recycler. He'd been humming some tune all day. She didn't recognize it. He'd been humming it just then. She sat down at his terminal, as he'd given her his access code too. Playing up his saved playlists, she looked for some music to distract herself. An incoming message flashed and started playing before she could push ignore.

DO YOU STILL HEAR OUR SONG, JEAN-LUC?

And then another message. Audio.

THIS IS LOCUTUS. SONG RECEIVED. RESTISTANCE IS DOWN. UPGRADES COMPLETE. THEY ARE READY.

Beverly gasped. Jumped up from the desk.

It had been going too well.


End file.
